Fate Smiles
by Sango-sama
Summary: UPDATED prologue! AU. Jewel Theives. Crooked Cops. Corruption. Spiritual Power (and a not-so-modest amount of lechery.) It is just another day in the dark side of the modern era. SanMir, KagomeIY, and perhaps a bit of KougaKagura UST.
1. Prologue

Fate Smiles Prologue Sango-sama  
  
The sun had been beating down onto her exposed neck, enough so that her moderately fair skin was feeling the pain of the burn that had beginning to form. In retrospect, she honestly wished that she had taken the time to put on sunscreen earlier in the morning before the sun had come up in full force. But her mind had been consumed with thoughts of this eroded old shrine that was nestled in the back roads of this rural community.  
  
Not long after the small roadside shrine had fallen into a sad state of disrepair, only the rotting wooden posts remained in the soil. And much of that soil had begun to wash away, enough so that a weary hiker managed to get a glimpse of a bright white bone sticking out from under the mini- shrine and rushed to the village inn to call the police, who in turn had informed the University's Anthropology Department. As luck would have it, she happened to be heading out this way for a brief relaxing weekend at a local hot spring and so she agreed to leave a day early to investigate the site. In the end she had given up her relaxing weekend to spend her time  
  
Brushes, small shovels, and sifters were scattered in an organized disarray on the ground beside her, all of it a testament to a full day's toil. The bones she had unearthed seemed to belong to an animal of some type, probably a larger feline, perhaps some as of yet undiscovered species. She certainly was unable to place it with the current species of cats that occupied Japan. And the bones themselves were incredibly dense, much more hard than most of the human bones they unearthed from only a few centuries before.  
  
But the real prize was the small crystal orb that was lay right next to the creature's neck. She picked the jewel up, smudging the dirt away from its shining surface. Was it supposed to be attached to the beast's neck as some sort of ceremonial piece, with whatever had attached it long since decayed by the soil and rain? Or had the animal stolen it away and died beside it? The people obviously felt compelled to build a shrine in its honor, whether for the jewel or for the beast she obviously would never know.  
  
The jewel glowed brightly in the sunlight, but she could just barely make out the tiniest bit of writing coming from inside the ball. She mentally shrugged, unable to decipher its meaning. Ancient writing was not her forte, but surely someone else in her department would know. In either case, she would be incredibly famous and probably rich for making such a wonderful discovery and for such little effort on her own part.  
  
She could not help but feel giddy as she replaced the jewel onto the soft cloth and picked up her cell phone to call the head of Archeology Department. So giddy, in fact, that she didn't even noticed the brief flash of darkness that had consumed the ball.  
  
*****  
  
Author's pre-story rant: This is an AU fic...(Some) names have been changed, but I will include a listing of who is who as they appear. This is the spawn of about ten different sources including: X-Files theories, Kaitou Saint Tail, Indiana Jones, The Saint, 3 x 3 Eyes, and of course InuYasha. Look for further explanations of plot details in the following chapters' Author's notes. Thanks as always to Mynuet and Elf from Space for their assistance in beta-reading. ^_^;  
  
I also feel I have to say that I claim no knowledge of the Tokyo area and its museums, shops, etc. I am doing some supplementary research, but it will not be perfect. Please understand this in advance. Also, all character names are fictionalized unless mentioned otherwise. In a later chapter, I will have a complete listing for main characters, but there is a current one below.  
  
I expect for certain to pair Inuyasha with Kagome and Sango with Miroku...but I will likely also add hints for other pairings.  
  
Character Key: Sakakibara Sumire: Sango Sakakibara Katsura: Kohaku Kazamatsuri Makoto: Miroku Abukara Kaori: Kaede Asano Shigure: Sesshoumaru Kazuna Reiko: Kagura Okimoto Ryu: Kouga 


	2. Chapter 1

Fate Smiles 

**Chapter 1**

**Sango-sama **

Beta-read by Mynuet and ElffromSpace

Disclaimer:  Inuyasha is borrowed from Takahashi Rumiko, Shonen Sunday, Shogakun, and Viz. 

Version 2.0:  February 1, 2003

The dark of the night had just begun to recede with the emergence of a thin strip of brilliance at the eastern horizon, the sky a deep rose color magnified by the heavy cloud slowly blowing past.  The early morning breeze had started to pick up, and a woman standing on the tiny apartment porch shivered as she clenched her robe tighter around her shoulders. 

Few people have either the time or the discipline to watch this natural spectacle; most are far too content hiding away in their warm beds, sleeping until late in the morning.  But for most of the night, the inviting comfort of sleep had evaded her reach.  'Just as well,' she sighed; it was that much more peaceful for the raven-haired woman, as she leaned against the metal rail of the porch.  No cars were honking and rushing past the street in front of her apartment.  No people were shouting in the streets.  The seemingly endless chiming of cell phones was temporarily silent.  She was alone in the world.  The calm of dawn's first light casting dim shadows, far-off memories of a more peaceful time in her life as the cool, gentle breeze kissed her face and played with the loose strands her long, dark hair. 

"Kaa-san?" 

A young girl dressed in blue pajamas stood inside the opened screen door, her long black hair barely setting past her shoulders.  Sleepily, she rubbed her eyes and walked out onto the porch to stand beside the older woman, her yellow blanket dragging on the ground behind her. 

"Good Morning, Sumi-chan."  Her mother's smile was as genuine as the dawn's first light, rising up above the horizon.  "Would you like to sit on my lap?" 

Mutely, she nodded her head.  Her mother opens her arms wide, enveloping the child in her grasp before pulling her up onto her knees.  Gently she smoothed down the young girl's hair, holding her close.  "You had a nightmare, didn't you, Sumire?" 

She sniffled softly before her head slowly nods up and down.  "Mmmhmm." 

The woman's hand slid from her hair and onto her back, stroking it comfortingly.  "Do you want to talk about it?" 

The little girl nodded mutely, hers innocent eyes wide as the words spilled over her lips. "It was dark outside and I couldn't find you.  And I couldn't find tou-san.  And I kept walking around, but all I could see were trees everywhere.  And they all looked the same..." 

A bittersweet smile played over her gently upturned lips; she could almost feel the ghost of her mother's hand smooth down her hair as she released all of her fears.  It had seemed like magic that the terrifying dreams, which had been so vivid to her young eyes, would slowly fade away with the rising sun.

The bad dreams still haunted her, both in her sleep and while she stood wide awake.  Until her brother was old enough, it was she who would support their small family in the best way she knew how.  

She stepped away the balcony to start making breakfast for both she and her brother, wincing sharply as the thin, newly formed gash on the underside of her right arm brushed across the chipped paint and rust that covered the railing enclosing the tiny balcony.  Doing so had torn the thin gauze bandage that covered the wound.  With a resigned sigh, she set off to find the medical kit in order to fix her bandage before her brother woke up.  After all, it wouldn't do to have him asking how she had gotten such a cut.  

The sun slowly ascended up over the horizon, spilling its light over the rooftops and chasing children's nightmares away all over Tokyo. 

But she was no longer a child.

*****

April 22, 2000  

9:00 am

The man sprinted down the empty street, the flaps of his trench coat and the long ponytail that sat high atop the back of his head dancing behind him as the wind rushed past.  It was an odd sight to behold, for even as the twenty-nine year-old sprinted down the street in very professional dress attire, he was incredibly light on his feet, owing much of that feat to the hours he spent in the gym, fighting off the pounds that seemed to settle around the middle more easily as he grew older.  Of course, it didn't hurt that he spent a fair amount of time doing weight training, leaving him with an appealing, lean muscle tone from head to toe and making the cut of his suit fit perfectly.   While many of the younger officers of the force were still in peak physical condition, only a dedicated few of the higher-ranking police officers bothered to keep with tedious exercise routine.  Even as a hardened detective, he could still run down most of the petty thieves he encountered when he was close enough to the scene.

A few of the young women who were busy opening up their shops for business smiled in feminine appreciation as the young detective breezed past, some of the more daring ones whistling as he flew by.  He winked at one of the elderly ladies as she stood outside her shop sweeping, making her lose her grip on the broom handle and blush like a schoolgirl.  He earned a few frowns as well, mostly from males who were observing the flirtatious behavior of their wives and daughters with disapproval.  

He chuckled good-naturedly before his gaze turned serious.  Normally, he would relish the feel of the cool morning air as it hit his face during his morning run, waking him up long enough to get to the warm pot of coffee that would await him at the precinct building. It was just his luck that news of the late night robbery would not trickle down to him until nearly an hour before 

'No,' the little voice in the back of his mind nagged as turned the corner.  'Luck had nothing to do with it.  But you can be damned sure that _she _did.'  He sneered distastefully at the thought.  Yesterday night had been his night off call...and he had indulged in a bit too much beer when he went out drinking with his neighbors and had spent the past six hours happily sleeping off the after effects, until the phone call had given him a rather rude awakening just before sunrise.  _That woman would resort to any measures to hold him back.  _

Every piece of evidence he had heard about this case reminded him of the string of burglaries he spent the past few months investigating.  There was no sign of forced entry and not one single latent fingerprint or piece of hair was left behind.  There was no doubt in his mind that this was the burglar he had been tracking.  Night off or not, he should have been informed right away.

Yellow tape had been extended around the entrance to the tiny jewelry store, and a few joggers who had been out running had paused outside the tape line to try and get a glimpse of whatever had happened inside.

The detective ducked beneath the tape and walked into the tiny shop.  He hadn't even taken two steps before he could see the shattered glass strewn in a sunburst pattern around the midnight blue carpeting that surrounded the now empty case.  The black velvet matting still had an indentation where the jewel had been set for display.  

He frowned.  The criminal had obviously been successful enough to take the jewel, but this didn't make sense with the theif he was tracking.  He had always been very careful, using a circular glass saw to break into the glass case without tripping the alarm systems.

The detective grimaced at the attractive young woman, who emerged from a back office with a balding man.  She bowed slightly to thank the shop owner for his assistance, revealing the slightest hint of cleavage as she leaned forwards in her red dress pantsuit, paying no heed to where the middle-aged man's gaze traveled.  Her hair sat at the top of her head in a severe bun.  "If you wouldn't mind filling out the paperwork with officer Tendo here, you, of course, will be compensated for the damages done to your store, Watanabe-san."   

"Thank you, Kazuna–keishi*."

"Shit.  She's already here."  The detective spat, trying to find some way out without being seen.  'I could do without dealing with her—'

"There's no need to panic, Okimoto-keibu*," she drawled, rewarding him with a condescending smile.  "The jewel that was stolen was a carefully crafted forgery, created by Watanabe-san.  No doubt your thief already has figured this out."  

Okimoto gaped at her, his blue eyes wide.  "So then all of this was a set up?"

"Of course."  Her grin widened, and an almost predatory flicker of crimson flashed in her eyes.  "It's amazing how effective a little bit of planted information can be." 

*****

Under early morning light, Sumire was out walking on the quiet streets.  Although she wore a dark jogging suit, she didn't seem to be much in the mood for exercise. 

She wasn't truly sure when she had started getting up at dawn, but it had become a ritual.  And after both of her parents died two years ago, she came out nearly every morning trying desperately to hold on to those memories, reaching for some way--any way for her to be with her mother again.  Her father had been a kind man, but was always very dedicated to his work.  Often he wouldn't be home until late in the evening and would leave early to go back to the office.  Although she had loved both of her parents equally, after their car crash it had been far harder to grasp her mother's death, while it seemed that her father was only away on an extended business trip.  

She had undertaken the task of caring for herself and her brother, Katsura, when she was 16.  At first, the insurance money was enough to cover their monthly bills, but the budget was tight.  Both she and her brother had to have jobs and go to school, and nearly everyday they came home exhausted, only to sit down to their homework.  Only on very rare occasions did Sumire ever consider spoiling herself. 

But gradually, the insurance ran low.  She had managed to finish High School early and got a full time job, but even that was not enough.  When an option to make a lot of money fast was given to her, she had almost no choice but to accept.  Although it did require a shift in her ethical standards, she was incredibly lucky to even find such a means.  Many girls in her position found themselves on street corners. 

Sumire slowed her pace near the doors of a small restaurant, ducking inside quickly.  Swiftly, she weaved a path through the tables passing the few customers sitting down to their morning coffee and already engrossed in the headlines of the daily paper.  She bumped open the two-way doors into a back room, passing the rather bulky cook, who was poring over his fresh shipment of ingredients. 

Smiling at him, she stopped to chat for a few minutes.  "Ohayo, Touji-kun." 

"Ohayo, Sumire-san.  He's been expecting you for a half an hour now."  

Smiling, she nodded.  "I'm sure he has."  Slowly, she started towards the last door as her eyes passed over the counter hungrily.  Eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, rice, cheese, and freshly baked bread were piled on the counter.  Suddenly, just a few steps away from the door, her stomach loudly protested this injustice.  The toast and orange juice she had nearly an hour earlier had simply not been enough to sate it, and it growled vehemently. 

A sweatdrop hung prominently over her brow as she forced a smile. 

"But he can wait a few more minutes, I'm sure...." 

******

A few blocks away from the restaurant, all was quiet except for the faintest sound of someone snoring. 

In a tiny room of an upstairs apartment, light shone through the blinds, sending brilliant ribbons of light spilling over the length of the navy comforter.  A foot dangled off of the bed from underneath a pile of sheets and comforters and a few errant black locks spilled onto the pillow from beneath the comforter. 

Mounds of clothing were strewn across the floor so that the red carpet barely peeked through.  Books on religion and the occulted cluttered the bookshelves, and a few of the large volumes were lying open atop the large desk by the window. 

The silence was blessed. But all too short. 

The alarm on his nightstand screeched to life, bleating out an ear-drum shattering squeal, demanding immediate attention like an impatient child. 

A hand crept up from under the comforter, blindly swatting for the sleep button, before immersing itself into the fluffy pile of pillows and comforters. 

The sound of silence once again took over the room, lulling the man back to dreamland. 

Brrring, Brrrring. 

The phone surged to life. 

Brrring, Brrrring. 

He groaned and shoved the pillow down over his ears, willing the caller away.  Or at least for his answering machine to hurry and pick up.

Brrring, Brrrring. 

... 

Brrring, Brrrring. 

With an audible click, his answering machine finally accepted the call and a mechanical version of his voice responded.  "This is Kazamatsuri.  I'm out at the moment.  Kindly leave a message and I will return your call later."

Kazamatsuri Makoto!  Get off your tail this instant!  You're going to be late for your 9:00 am. 

He groaned into the pillow. 

If you don't get up and out of bed this instant, I will come down there and remove you from bed myself.  Are we clear? 

That woke him up.  The mental image of the haggard older woman dragging him from his comfortable bed shot through his mind.  He saw her face every day in the office, so he simply didn't need to wake up to her face in the morning.  Nor did he want to face her wrath.  He plucked the phone from its receiver and swiftly cradled it against his ear.

"Crystal clear, Kaori-san."  The phone cradled against his shoulder, he jumped and wiggled, pulling a pair of rumpled jeans that had been lying on the floor over his black boxers.  "Tell them I'll be there in ten minutes."

The old woman could be heard rapping her fingers on the desk impatiently.  Makoto, this is the third time I've had to call this week.  What is it going take to get you here on time and showing a little bit of responsibility?  These old bones can't run this business by myself you know. 

He chuckled lightly.  "A miracle, Kaori-san.  A miracle." 

****** 

"You're late, Sakakibara-san," Asano words were even, a carefully measured and calculated as everything else he did.  None of his movements or expressions ever strayed from his meticulous control to reveal any emotions that a person of his status and nature preferred to conceal.  His hands were folded on the mahogany desk, and his impassive eyes regarded her from behind designer glasses with silver frames.  "I expect all of my employees to appear for work in a timely fashion.  Surely you haven't forgotten."

She arched an eyebrow as she settled herself into the soft black chair.  "I assume you also don't want your employees to bleed on your pristine carpet."  Her fingers rolled back the soft material of the sweatshirt she donned to mask her injury.  "I would have been here on time if I didn't have to patch this up again." 

While his expression remained blasé, he brought a hand up to smooth down the non-existent, errant ebony hairs that might have strayed from his careful placement.  "I didn't think you were usually so careless."

"I'm not.  The police somehow anticipated where I was going to be and set a trap.  Even the gem itself is a fake."  Using her good arm, she pulled a small silk bag out of her pocket and tossed it gently onto his desk.  Gesturing at the bag, she challenged him.  "See for yourself."

He opened the drawer in front of him and pulled out a magnifying eyepiece.  Slipping the supposed fake from the bag, he held the sizable green rock between his slim fingers and began examining each of the jewel's facets, searching for some assurance that the jewel was a genuine emerald.  He may not have been a jeweler himself, but working on the other side of the industry required just as much knowledge to verify a genuine article.  He looked quite disappointed when he came up empty-handed.  His agent appeared to be quite correct in assuming the police were quite intent on halting his operation.  His eyes trained upon her injured arm.  "You took care of the cameras?"

Sumire looked indignant.  "Of course."

 "And your arm?"

"The glass case was rigged to collapse with pressure changes; I had hardly even touched the cutter to the glass when the entire case shattered."  She gazed at the wound, repressing the urge to scratch the itching, healing skin.   "I'm just lucky that my injuries aren't any worse."  

His lips were pressed into a thin line.  If the glass had drawn blood, and by all reports it had, than a few extra precautions were in order.  "I will have our contact at the hospital see to it that your samples on record are destroyed."  

The young woman nodded, mutely.

He leaned back into the tall leather chair.  If the police thought they had established a _modus operandi*_ for their thief, then he would be forced to through a wrench into their plans.

"Sakakibara...how long should it take for your arm to heal?"

*****

Feedback is always appreciated!  ^_^ 

Glossary (English and Japanese!):

Keibu:  police inspector

Keishi:  the police superintendent, in other words, a police inspector's boss

Modus operandi:  a method of procedure; especially a distinct pattern or method of operation that indicates or suggests the work of a single criminal in more than one crime

Character Key: 

Sakakibara Sumire: Sango 

Sakakibara Katsura: Kohaku 

Kazamatsuri Makoto:  Miroku 

Abukara Kaori:  Kaede

Asano Shigure:  Sesshoumaru

Kazuna Reiko (Keishi):  Kagura

Okimoto Ryu  (Keibu):  Kouga


	3. Chapter 2

Fate Smiles 

Chapter 2

Sango-sama

Disclaimer:  I don't own Inuyasha.  If I did, he would be shirtless more often in the anime and manga.  ^_-

Author's Note:  This is an Alternate Universe fic.  Many of the characters from the Inuyasha storyline are appearing in the Modern Era, but their names have been changed from the series names.  Please bear with me.

Good GOD!  I've been working through the planning stages of some of the next chapters.  While I wasn't watching, this project hatched from its egg and become Godzilla.  -_-  The things I do to write a decent Sango/Miroku scene...  In other news, homework has been Hell and a half.  Don't expect updates to follow any sort of pattern, though I'm certainly not giving up on writing whenever I get the chance.

Beta Readers (and other fun suggestions):  Mynuet and Elffromspace.  You guys are awesome!!!

*****

Okimoto gaped at her.  "So then all of this was a set up?"

"Of course."  Her grin widened, and an almost predatory flicker of crimson flashed in her eyes.  "It's amazing how effective a little bit of planted information can be." 

In that brief instant, realization struck the Inspector's cobalt eyes and they immediately turned cold.  He threw her a frigid glare, his balled fists at his side, trembling with the effort of suppressing his rage.  He mentally cursed every single superior who allowed this harpy a position above his.  Ever since she set foot in the precinct office, she had been making his life miserable.

Kazuna indulged her subordinate in a brief staring match.  He did have a fair amount of reason to be angry with her...but ultimately, it was her call.  As far as this kaitou* was concerned, her job was on the line just as much as his.  But she certainly wasn't about to stand here all day.  She frowned, tapping a carefully manicured, red fingernail at her watch pointedly.  "I need to be getting back to headquarters."  Kazuna spun on her heels, sparing him a glance over her shoulder.  "I'll expect your preliminary report on my desk by 5 pm."

"Hold on a second."  His fingers clamped over her forearm, marring her pale skin that remain hidden beneath the coat's sleeve.  "If this was a setup, I want to know why the hell I wasn't informed?" he seethed.  "This is my case, damnit!"

Kazuna wordlessly removed his vice-like grip for her slender arm, frowning at the offending hand.  Her voice remained smooth, cutting through the tension like a sharp knife.  "Okimoto-kun...you've been working on this case for three months now, during which time our little thief has managed to pull off heists in excess of 300 million yen, not including damages.  And yet, even with all of these cases, you've not managed to get at least one substantial clue to go on."

He stared at her defiantly, challenging her to tell him something he didn't already know.   "How can they expect me to make progress if this thief is being damn careful about covering his tracks?"

 "Would you rather we wait for this guy to slip up and see how many more millions he can steal?"  She didn't bother to wait for a reply; her patience was wearing dangerously thin.  "With no leads at all, you should be glad that I stepped in with a way to make him slip up.   This case is high profile and your inability to get anything on this guy is making our department look bad."

Okimoto's eyes narrowed as he watched her stride towards the door, the marked staccato of her heel, clacking against the marble floor.

"If I don't see some progress by the end of the day, Okimoto-keibu, you can be damn sure I'll be working with you on this case."

It wasn't until the door clicked shut behind her that he slammed his fist into the wall with all the force he could muster.  

"Shit."

******

"My arm should be alright in a few days, I guess."  Sumire frowned, not quite sure what her boss was getting at.  "It may be a little sore after that, but I'll manage...."

Her voice trailed off as Asano silently stepped out from behind his desk and walked towards the door, nodding slightly as an indication for her to follow.  She fell in step at his side, her tennis shoes squeaking over the gray marble tile.  

"We must throw off the police off your trail.  They'll be expecting you to follow the same pattern.  "  His brown eyes were serious, staring in a far-off gaze down the long, empty hallway.  "I need you to find something...different...that will still appeal to my clients."  

"Different?" she echoed.

He nodded sternly.  "No jewels.  No paintings.  Ideally, the article would have to be rare and valuable."  He paused, gazing pensively at the floor.  "An important cultural artifact perhaps.  It is imperative to hold the clients interests, after all."  

"Not to mention their pocket books," she added dryly.  She stifled a small smirk and continued walking a few steps more, until she became aware that Asano had stopped.

"It is to our benefit that their affluence and greed go hand in hand, Sumire."  His voice remained steady but his sharply angled features showed the slightest hint of irritation.  "It is their love of our culture that lets you support yourself and your brother so easily.  You would do well to remember that."

Sumire nodded, just barely covering a soft sigh as she pressed the small button on the wall.  Asano, although she often forgot, was part of the nouveau riche.  Through his own genius, he had pulled himself up from the lower class to make a name for himself in the business world, making friends and associates among the upper echelon of society.  He had even started a highly successful computer company in the mid-nineties; but when his company had collapsed in the recession, his friends and his money both disappeared in tandem.  He had only recently been able to jump back into the technologies market with a kick-start from his black market dealings with the items she had stolen.  Perhaps it was too difficult to expect him to be overly critical of the very people who were quite literally saving both of their asses...people who he used to call friend.

They both stood in an uncomfortable silence until the mechanical chime signaled that the elevator was stopping at their floor.  Stepping onto the large elevator, Sumire pressed the button for the tenth floor.  She spared a glance at Asano, who was pointedly ignoring her by watching the numbers atop the silver doors light up and fade as the elevator rose.

She bit her lip to quell her anger that he would be holding a grudge for such a meaningless comment.  With a frown, she admonished herself.  She couldn't let herself get angry with him--he held her paycheck after all, and she would be utterly lost without that money.  She forced her eyes to drift to the ground.  In all honesty, she felt vaguely sorry for the man.  True, he had taken great pains to diversify his interests this time around and had forced himself to become shrewd more with his finances.  And he was exploiting the wealth of those same "former friends" to regain his own fortune, as his own personal vengeance.  But in every interaction she had with him, he seemed terribly lonely.  He feared facing that same rejection again so much, that he refused to trust everyone...not even his own employees.

Silence still reigned supreme until doors slid open and they stepped onto the soft red carpet on the tenth floor.  "You will be taking Takahiro and Emi to the History Museum this morning.  See if something there strikes your interest."  

Sumire nodded.  "Alright."

It seemed rather odd that Asano had taken it upon himself to accept the ward of his two young Godchildren.  Much of the gossip that circulated on the lower floors speculated that Asano had merely taken them in for the sake of publicity.  They had a nanny who came in and watched them later in the evenings, but it was Sumire herself who officially had the task of personal tutor to the two young orphans, six year-old Sato Takahiro and his four year-old sister, Emi.  When she had first taken on the position, both children had been very quiet and subdued, but now it seemed they were finally adjusting to their new home.  To call the pair troublemakers would be a gross understatement.

"Sumire-neesan!"  The little boy shouted, running through the doorway, his soft brown eyes shining.  "Good Morning!"

"Nee-san!"  His adopted sister was right on his heels and quickly attached herself to Sumire's leg.  Emi shyly peaked out the open doorframe at the somber man, who quietly watched the scene from the hallway.  Her wide eyes would meet Asano's and then she would hide herself behind 

"We're going to the museum today."  Sumire was making every effort to sound enthusiastic.  Somehow she doubted that the two would find any of the exhibits terribly interesting.  "Go get your jackets."

"Hai!" they responded in chorus, running back to the large wooden wardrobe to grab their coats.

Emi-chan tug the light pink jacket onto her arms, her fingers struggling to latch the zipper.  While her brother stood at Sumire's side, try as she did, Emi-chan just could not get the zipper to fasten.  Sumire chuckled softly before she knelt down in front of the little girl, guiding her tiny fingers to latch the zipper together.  "There you go."

With a self-satisfied smile, Emi pulled the zipper right up to her chin and grabbed her hand. 

"Ne...Onee-san?"   Takahiro tugged on the dark fabric of her sweatshirt.  "Can we go get ice cream afterwards?"

She smiled, mussing his soft reddish brown hair.  "I suppose so, Taka-chan."

A ghost of a smile lingered on Asano's face for a few brief moments, but it had been there just long enough for Sumire to see.

Even if he had difficulty dealing with the adults who had betrayed him, there was still a place in his heart for these children.  Perhaps there was still hope for Asano after all.

"I guess we'll be off, then."

*****

With a heavy sigh, Makoto started to scale the long stone steps that guarded the History Museum, the strong wind tossing his long bangs in every direction.  He anticipated that this was going to be an incredibly tedious task and was probably not even worth getting up this morning.  He readjusted the heavy backpack that was slung over his shoulder

A large banner that hung to the eaves of large entranceway proclaimed that "Artifacts of the Sengoku Jidai" were to be on exhibit for the next month.

Archeology was quickly becoming a widespread national hobby, and so it seemed that every college student was rushing out into the wilderness with a shovel, hoping to find a quick way to instant fame and fortune.  Of course, since it was only a hobby, only a select few were actually getting the professional training...leaving those like himself with a large portion of the research and grunt work on top of their normal positions.  Despite his rather haphazard appearance, he was every bit the part of the consummate professional when it came to knowledge of obscure religious artifacts.  

He trudged through the doors wearily, making his way to the information desk.  It was days like this that made him want to just fall back into the warm comfort of his own bed and forget that morning had ever arrived.  The pay he got for his expertise in these appraisals were not worth the stress of traveling all the way across town.  He gave the young woman at the information desk a weary smile, eyeing the nametag at her chest that read 'Yanagi Eriko.'  

"Excuse me, Yanagi-san."  

She struggled not to appear irritated as she closed the romance novel she had been reading.

He rewarded her with a charming smile.  It seemed that he was not the only one who had no desire to be here today.  "I have an appointment with the curator to appraise one of the new artifacts."

Blushing slightly, she dropped her eyes onto thick layer of papers that covered the desk, searching for the appointment book.  "Well," she spoke softly, trying to mask the embarrassment in her voice.  "The curator went home to take care of his grandchild early on this morning, but his assistant is still here to speak with you.  I'll call him down right away."

"That will be fine."

Yanagi quickly dialed the extension for the assistant's office.  Frowning, she hung up the phone.  "I'm sorry, uh..."  She hesitated.  The man had not given her name and the only thing written in the appointment book for the entire day had been 'Appraiser: 9 am.'  "I'm afraid I never caught your name."

"Kazamatsuri."

She gave him a sheepish smile.  "Well, Kazamatsuri-san, I can't seem to find his assistant either."

A voice perked up behind them.  "I'm afraid that's because I wasn't in my office."  Embarrassed, he slid his fingers through the short auburn hair at the back of his head.  "I got involved in the Sengoku project and lost track of time.  Please accept my apology."

Makoto nodded.  "It's quite alright.  I hadn't been waiting all that long.  Yanagi-san was keeping me company."

The blush on her cheeks deepened, as she stuttered.  "I-it was nothing, really."

The younger man grinned widely, bowing slightly.  "Thank you for coming so quickly, Kazamatsuri-san."   He gestured for Makoto to follow him down the slightly darkened corridor and through the door that was labeled 'Authorized Personnel Only'.  

Makoto followed, letting the door click shut behind him.  "So, Houjo-san, what is this mystery artifact of yours?"

"For the sake of all appearances, it's just a simple jewel.  But if you look at this little part right ...here,"  he backed himself away from the magnifier to let Makoto have a look, "you can see a little bit of writing etched onto its surface."

Makoto removed his glasses, squinting through the magnifying glass.  He was getting the oddest sense of deja vu.  He knew he had seen this thing somewhere.  Perhaps in one of his old research books?  "It looks like..."

"An Ofuda."  Houjo nodded.  "Best I can figure, it is an older writing style for the Buddhist sealing spells.  Which is why I thought to ask you."

"Well, it is an Ofuda and the language is fairly archaic, though I can't say a time period for certain without a bit more research."  Makoto blinked, rubbing his eyes before returning his gaze to the jewel.  It was a rare that a monk ever possessed enough power to make any spell actually inscribe itself onto its target.  He himself had trained with his grandfather for many years before he acquired the ability to actually make any of the spells even sizzle during an exorcism.  That in itself had been difficult, especially considering even finding a minor demon in the modern world was nearly impossible.  But to use that power to inscribe a damn high powered sealing spell on this small of a jewel.  _What the hell is it sealing in?  It must be something intense._

"Since the style of the writing seemed old, the curator was getting on my back to figure out the time period this new artifact came from and its history for the new exhibit coming up..."

Houjo's voice registered as little more than drone at the back of Makoto's mind, but he continued to nod periodically.  His mind was racing.  In spite of the heavy-duty sealing spell, this tiny orb still held a faint ethereal glow, signifying a mere hint of the power that lingered inside.  And if this jewel was still showing traces of power even after such a sealing spell was used, there was a pretty good chance that another carrier of spiritual magic had tried to seal it.  

"...And they found it buried a few miles from an old shrine..."

He focused his energies, ignoring the vague, niggling sensation of familiarity that was poking at the back of his mind.  It was faint but he could detect the presence of another sealing spell.

"Houjo-san, there are at least two spells on this jewel...maybe even more.  And not all of them are based on Buddhist spiritual magic."  He rubbed his eyes, trying to get his eyes to adjust back to the normal light.  "Do you mind if I take this to my boss?  Abukara-san is one of few remaining experts on Shinto spells."

"Well, I suppose."  Houjo looked uncertain.  "I am concerned about it leaving the premises though..."

Makoto's eyes darkened as he turned his gaze back to faintly glowing orb.  "The only way I can figure that we can figure out exactly what this is sealing is to know the exact types of spells that have been placed on it.  And until we know all of that, I won't be able to get a clear picture of its history."

*****

Takahiro was running through the large exhibit hall.  "Betcha can't find me, Emi-chan!"

"Yes Emi can!"  Emi-chan fell into chase, following her older brother around the glass cases.

Sumire felt exhausted but kept chasing after the two, trying desperately not to run through the echoing halls.  Their nanny never claimed to have any problems with the little darlings, but it seemed whenever they were in her care the two did all they could manage to run wild.  It was good that they got to play actively, but the museum was certainly not to the place for it. 

"Gotcha!"  She grabbed ahold of Emi, who had collapsed in a fit of giggles.  Sumire hauled the little girl back to the information desk.

"I'm sorry...Miss?"

Yanagi sighed.  It didn't seem like she would ever be able to finish her romance novel today.  "Yes?"

"Would you mind watching her for a few minutes? Her brother is running around and I want to grab him before he does anything dangerous..."  Sumire paused, taking only a brief moment to catch her breath.

"Emi-chan, stay here with this nice lady while I..." She paused deliberating whether or not to tell Emi of the moderately homicidal thoughts she was currently having about her brother.  "...get Taka, or we won't get to stop for ice cream on the way home."

Briefly, she glanced over her shoulder at the little girl.  Emi had crossed her arms and pouted but she was sitting quietly.  'Good,' she smiled to herself, sprinting back to the room where she had left Takahiro.  'Now, to catch that other little brat.'  

She walked around the thankfully empty halls.  "Takahiro!  Where the hell are you?"  She couldn't hear the pattering of tiny feet echoing, which means that he must have decided to hide among the cases.  "You are going to be in such big trouble when I find you." 

She slowly circled one large case.  "You better hope that I don't find you, kiddo."

As, the she rounded the next one, a high-pitched giggle came from the other corner of the room.

"Not here."

The giggle grew close enough that she was able to locate just where he was.  She suppressed the smile detectable in her voice.  'Got him.'

"Or here..."  She crept towards the next case with wiggling fingers.  "I certainly wouldn't be behind this case...right...here!"

With a squeal, Takahiro ran out from behind the case on the side away from Sumire and darted into the next room.

"Takahiro, you stop right there!"

He grinned, throwing a mischievous look at her over his tiny shoulder.

Slightly out of breath and finding herself at the end of her patience, she shouted.  "If you don't stop right this second now, there will be NO ICE CREAM!"

That had done the trick; he had actually stopped in the middle of the room, looking to be on the brink of tears.  "No ice cream?"

Blinking, she only managed to slow her pace to a jog, figuring that moment she got too slow, he would just take off running again.  "Nope.  No ice--"

She certainly never expected that she would be the one to run headlong into one of the two men who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"--cream?"  Sango felt a rosy blush crawling up her cheeks as she took stock of her situation.  Here she was sprawled on top of a man she didn't know, in a position she'd normally require at least three dates before even considering, staring into a pair of the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen.

This was not good.

*****

Feedback is always appreciated! ^_^ 

Glossary:

Kaitou:  thief

Keibu: police inspector

Keishi: the police superintendent, in other words, a police inspector's boss

Character Key: 

Sakakibara Sumire: Sango 

Sakakibara Katsura: Kohaku 

Kazamatsuri Makoto: Miroku 

Abukara Kaori: Kaede

Asano Shigure: Sesshoumaru

Kazuna Reiko (Keishi): Kagura

Okimoto Ryu (Keibu): Kouga

Sato Takahiro:  Shippou

Sato Emi:  Rin


	4. Chapter 3

Fate Smiles  
  
Chapter 3 Sango-sama  
  
"When fate smiles on you, recognize it, and smile back - modestly."  
  
Disclaimer: Inuyasha is owned by Rumiko Takahashi, Shonen Sunday, Sunrise, Viz, Kagome and Kikyou. Miroku is the sole property of Sango. Kagura seems to have a possessive eye cast on both Kouga and Sesshoumaru...and switches between them at whim. Lucky girl!!  
  
Special Thanks to my Betas, Mynuet and Elffromspace, who make my writing look better than it usually does...and to all of you reviewers. You guys really do make the writing more worthwhile!!!  
  
Author's Notes: I'm very thankful for what feedback I have gotten. I'm not used to writing outside of general canon, but I'm glad that those of you who have taken the time to review have enjoyed it so far. I just keep getting ideas for this monster. Unfortunately, the other monster in my life, college (which sadly includes summer classes), has been sucking out my will to live and my free time...so I've fallen far behind in writing. So currently, I only have Love Beyond Life, Lost But Not Forgotten, and Fate Smiles. I will get back to my other works eventually, but these stories have priority.  
  
The story (and characters) thus far: Just a reminder, this is an AU fic that occurs in the modern era. Names of certain characters have been changed because they have been reincarnated into the modern era...and many of the characters in the modern era will be making an appearance shortly.  
  
Sakakibara Sumire: Sango Sakakibara Katsura: Kohaku Kazamatsuri Makoto: Miroku Abukara Kaori: Kaede Asano Shigure: Sesshoumaru Kazuna Reiko (Keishi): Kagura Okimoto Ryu (Keibu): Kouga Sato Takahiro: Shippou Sato Emi: Rin  
  
Please Enjoy!!! ^_^  
  
******  
  
Makoto was carefully wrapping the faintly glowing jewel into the dark blue silk bag and sliding it into his pocket, as he and a rather anxious Houjo- san trekked back down the long, dark hall that led from the back office. The assistant curator still looked a bit reluctant to allow the artifact to leave the museum.  
  
"How long do you think Abukara-san's evaluation of the jewel should take?"  
  
"No more than a few days at the most. If she doesn't know right off just by looking, she'll probably have a few texts on hand on how to unravel the spells to find out."  
  
"And there will be someplace safe to store it?"  
  
"Abukara-san is very particular about these old relics. She bought a large safe a while back for precious pieces that we store for sale and research. This little beauty will be locked up tight, fireproofed and thrice warded." He smiled wanly, patting a protective hand over the small bulge in his pocket. "You really don't have anything to worry about, Houjo-san. It will actually be quite a bit safer than it was in your backroom here. Besides, only a few people know of this right? The archeological team....maybe a few researchers....? It isn't as if you have to worry about someone would coming to steal it, right?"  
  
Smiling nervously, Houjo muttered. "I suppose you are right. I'm just worrying over nothing." "Its just that I was lucky enough to land this position straight out of college and I don't want anything to go wrong with this project..."  
  
But Makoto had stopped listening. A glimmer of deep, blood red had captured his attention out of the corner of his eye. He had turned himself to look at the small tan cat that sat in the middle of the museum floor, its crimson eyes glaring back at him curiously. Its twin tails twisting around one another as it used the corner of a display case to scratch the fur of its side. 'That looked like a nekomata! What the hell was it doing here?' It had been a long time since he was visiting museums as a patron, but he didn't think they had changed any rules about bringing any sort of animals into the museum.  
  
"Hey..." he said, pointing in the direction of the lighted case. "Do you see that?"  
  
"Hmmm? Do I see what?" Houjo blinked, his eyes following the pointed finger. The man's eyes widened as he shifted into "That little boy? Oh dear. It looks like he has lost his guardian...."  
  
'Well, I guess he doesn't see it.' Makoto ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 'So why the hell can I?' He rubbed his hands over his face before he looked back towards the tiny cat, only to find its space completely vacated. 'Where did it go?'  
  
"Kazamatsuri-san, if you would excuse me for just a second." Houjo had started walking over towards the little boy. The child appeared to be looking around rather frantically, his short little legs scurrying across the floor as fast as they could carry him.  
  
Makoto nodded absently, his mind more intent on locating the elusive demon cat. I know I wasn't just seeing things. I might have overindulged in the sake last night, but it's never caused hallucinations before, no reason for it to start now." Slowly, he started wandering around the cases, searching for any sign that his mind was not playing tricks. 'I grew up in a temple and even I've never once seen a demon. Call me cynical, but I would have sworn they just didn't exist in this modern world. So either I'm crazy, and I know I'm not, or I really did see a nekomata and there are far greater problems on the horizon.'  
  
In the back of his mind, he could hear voices echoing loudly in the large display room, but he was still too preoccupied to register what was being said.  
  
'Perhaps I ought to call my fath-'  
  
"Nope. No ice--"  
  
He hardly had enough time to catch a glimpse of the girl who was rushing into him.  
  
She had gasped sharply, her brown eyes shooting open as she tried to stop her forward motion. But it was no use, as they both fell onto the ground. Reflexively, his hand had snaked around to the small of her back, at once holding her slender form to his chest and turning himself to catch the brunt of the fall.  
  
His back was slammed against the hard marble floor. For a moment, his eyes closed tight and his teeth clenched in an attempt to distract himself from the pain. His backpack had offered a small amount of cushioning from the impact with the hard marble floor, but with the added weight of the girl, he was quite certain that he would be feeling the ache all week.  
  
But all the pain had been worth it for the sight that greeted him when he opened his eyes again. A hazy confusion still clouded the girl's soft, brown eyes. And the warmth that radiated from her slender form where she was sprawled on top of him.  
  
"--cream?"  
  
"No ice cream?" Makoto could hardly suppress a grin, his aching back temporarily all but forgotten at the opportunity to tease the girl in his arms. "Well, that is a bit harsh. We've only just met and already you are denying me my right to enjoy ice cream with a beautiful, young girl like yourself?"  
  
Her cheeks flushed a deep rosy pink, but she hadn't yet made any move to escape from his grasp. "I--I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't have been running in here, but--"  
  
"It is quite all right, I'm fairly durable."  
  
She still looked fairly uncertain, but she still had not dropped her gaze from his eyes.  
  
"Ah! But, where are my manners?" He smiled broadly, oozing politeness. "Are you are all right, miss? Nothing broken?" His hands began to wander, making a not-so-subtle stop at her chest.  
  
Anger flashed in her eyes, as she slapped the offending hands away from her and put significant distance between the two of them. "I don't think those can be broken, thank you very much!"  
  
Her arms crossed protectively over her chest as her cheeks flushed thoroughly once again, but whether it was from anger or embarrassment, Makoto couldn't be sure.  
  
"Kazamatsuri-san, are you alright?" Houjo stood over their heads with his hand on the shoulder of the young boy who had been running around earlier.  
  
"Nee-san, why is your face is all red?"  
  
Her eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing noiselessly as she struggled to find the words.  
  
Makoto tried to mask his amused smile as he rose up to his feet, wondering just what kind of excuse she could really offer the boy. She spared a quick glance at him and her features hardened sharply. If looks could kill, he would be in a chalk outline on the Museum floor.  
  
"Never mind that, Taka-chan. It's not important." She composed herself quickly, and shook her finger at the small boy. "You shouldn't go running off like that again. I told you to stay still, and you didn't listen."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Her eyes softened as she continued. "If you run off and get into trouble, I can't be there to help you, so please stay with me."  
  
"Hai." The little boy pouted, while heavy tears pooled at the corner of his eyes, threatening to drop at the slightest provocation.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Are you really gonna take away my ice cream, Nee-san?"  
  
Sumire sighed. Things would become a lot more difficult if he started crying. She hadn't wanted to draw any attention to herself today. "Alright. But only if you can behave all the way home."  
  
He gave a grin, proudly displaying the wide gap left by his missing two front teeth.  
  
"And I mean the whole way home, Takahiro."  
  
"Mmmhmmm!" He nodded, still grinning brightly.  
  
Houjo smiled at the pleasant scene, before turning back to Makoto. "Perhaps you'd best be on your way, Kazamatsuri-san. I'd like to know the results on that artifact as soon as possible."  
  
Makoto nodded, still watching the girl-woman, his mind amended...girls did not have those kinds of curves-and the young boy with a fond expression. Shaking his head, he brought himself out of his reverie, and readjusted his backpack on his shoulders.  
  
"I'll have it back before--" He was suddenly struck silent.  
  
"Before what?"  
  
His widened, as his hand patted frantically over his empty pockets. "The jewel! It's gone!"  
  
****  
  
Ihara Yura sat in the front of the glowing computer screen, holding up the image of the evidence.  
  
Dash after dash translated into code, a simplistic series of markers that could identify a single person out of the millions of others who walked the Earth. If one knew how to read the code, anyhow. Hair, blood, and a vast array of bodily fluids-all of it-contained the simplistic, but very specific code, making it particularly damning evidence in a court of law.  
  
Even though she had spent several hours hunched over a bench to prepare the samples, her fine ebony strands was still set flawlessly into place and pulled back with the small red comb above her right temple.  
  
Okimoto-keibu had ordered a rush on this particular job. And that meant for certain it was for a major case, although the police were never at liberty to reveal the nature of case.  
  
Nervously, she ran her fingers through her hair. She had already run the numbers through the police's known offender database, without any luck. That left only the sparse government and hospital records that she was searching through when Okimoto walked into her office.  
  
"Please tell me you have something for me."  
  
"So impatient." She shook her head condescendingly, speaking in soft, even tones. "Yes, I have something for you."  
  
"Did you figure out who he is?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Damn it!"  
  
She waved her finger at him. "Ah ah ah! You don't expect to do your job for you, do you? I do still have some information to aid your investigation. Tell me, detective, what do you know about the suspect?"  
  
"Very little."  
  
"Well, I can tell you a few things..."  
  
"Like?" He prompted, trying to not sound completely irritated. What the hell was it with these annoying women he worked with?  
  
"Like for one thing, "He" is not a he."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
She spoke very slowly, as if to a child, so that the detective was sure to understand. "Your suspect is a woman."  
  
"A woman?" He looked incredulous, staring at the floor with wide, far off eyes. "All this time it has been a woman?"  
  
"Well, unless she got a sex change. Of course, that's just a physical change...it doesn't effect DNA."  
  
"You mean, we've been outsmarted by a woman?"  
  
"You say that like it's the first time this has happened."  
  
His head fell to his hands.  
  
She patted his shoulder lightly, as she smirked at his pitiful state. "This must be very bad for your ego. Poor baby."  
  
****  
  
Houjo was very quiet for a few seconds. But it wasn't long before--  
  
"You lost it?"  
  
Makoto pulled the empty bag from his pocket, noting that the bag was a far cry lighter than when he tucked it into his pocket a couple of minutes before.  
  
Houjo's voice grew louder, his voice carrying all the way out into the main hall. "I can't believe you lost it! You didn't even leave the Museum and you lost such a precious artifact!" His hand traveled up to his forehead to lessen the pain that was building. A bit more quietly than before he spoke again, the strain still tangible in his voice. "That could be the find of my career that you just lost."  
  
Makoto cringed, his eyes turning from the vein that was still bulging on the assistant curator's forehead, before he dropped to his hands and knees to search the floor for the glass bead. It really was scarier when the quiet ones snapped. "Don't worry. It can't have gone far...It must have rolled out of the bag when I fell."  
  
Houjo's hand traveled up to his forehead to lessen the pain that was building. A bit more quietly than before he spoke again, the strain still tangible in his voice. "That could be the find of my career that you just lost."  
  
"Excuse me." A voice said softly. "What is that you are looking for?"  
  
Both men turned their attention to her and to the boy whose hand she was tightly holding on to. Or more accurately, Houjo's eyes turned to the young boy. Makoto, on the other hand, was busy giving her a once over before his gaze locked on hers.  
  
Blushing brightly, her eyes darted to the floor, looking for some sign of the...well, whatever it was that he had lost. "It's just...I feel bad for running into you." And I'm curious what could be so valuable that it caused the curator to throw a conniption fit, her mind added. She bit her lip If she played her cards right, that 'find of the other's man career' could be her ticket out of working for Asano Shigure. Not that she didn't enjoy the job. She certainly couldn't complain about the pay and nothing was quite like the rush of adrenaline that coursed through her veins when she knew she was being pursued. But being a thief is risky business; one careless move and you can be caught. And she had already been careless enough to underestimate the precautions the police would take.  
  
He smiled kindly, as he pulled himself up off the floor. "I said before that it wasn't any trouble, miss."  
  
She bit her lip to keep from smirking. No matter whether this guy was a lech or not, it appeared that he was gentleman enough that the shy and innocent routine would work rather nicely. "But...it seems I made you lose something...at the very least, I should help you find it."  
  
"Kazamatsuri-san..." Houjo said testily, pulling him off the side for a second. "I would rather we kept information about this artifact quiet for the time being."  
  
"I won't say anything more than what it looks like."  
  
He sighed, turning on his heels to leave. "Do what you will. Just find it. And get it to Abukara-san as soon as possible."  
  
'Really,' Makoto shook his head to Houjo's back. 'He is being far too paranoid about this.' He remembered his company and turned back to them with a smile. "I'm sorry for the interruption. What I'm looking for is a small glass ball...just about the size of a ping-pong ball...."  
  
It hadn't taken more than a few minutes before Takahiro had spotted the tiny orb and bent down to pick it up with his chubby fingers. "I found it!"  
  
"That's great, Taka-chan!"  
  
Both adults started wandering towards him. He beamed with pride at having found the missing ball. As he picked it up, he promptly cried out sharply dropping it to the ground and watching it clink across the floor. "Ow! That's hot!"  
  
"What's the matter?" Sumire was standing next to him in mere seconds, voice full of concern.  
  
"It hurt my hand..." He turned his palm face up to reveal a bright red welt on the skin's surface.  
  
Sumire's eyes widened. It hadn't looked serious, but the rather star- shaped mark was unmistakably a burn. She turned to Makoto just in time to see him just about to pick up the glass ball.  
  
"Don't touch that thing."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it just burnt his hand." 


	5. Chapter 4

Fate Smiles  
  
Chapter 4 Sango-sama  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the franchise. Writing this is a reward in and of itself.  
  
Author's Notes: School is evil. It prevents me from writing and doing fun things like writing this. I'm working on framing the rest of this story, but expect to see some familiar faces soon! Thanks again to Mynuet and Elffromspace, my awesome beta readers who make my writing look far better than it usually is!  
  
Character Key: Sakakibara Sumire: Sango Sakakibara Katsura: Kohaku Kazamatsuri Makoto: Miroku  
  
Abukara Kaori: Kaede  
  
Asano Shigure: Sesshoumaru Kazuna Reiko (Keishi): Kagura Okimoto Ryu (Keibu): Kouga Asano Takahiro  
  
*****  
  
"It burnt his hand?" Makoto was shocked; he had held that jewel in question not even half an hour before and it wasn't any warmer than the palm of his hand. But on account of the heavy tears in the boy's big blue eyes and the way he was nursing his supposedly injured hand, it seemed pretty clear that the boy wasn't faking.  
  
She narrowed her eyes, her previous embarrassment gave way to irritation that this man apparently didn't believe her. Why would she have any reason to lie about something like that? "Look at the way he's crying. Do you really need to see the burn to believe me?" She silently pulled the boy by his good hand towards the Museum's Main Atrium.  
  
"Of course not. I just--" He glared at her, baffled. Why in the world was this girl getting so defensive? He didn't think he had done anything to merit it. He just was at a loss to explain how the ball had burned the young boy's hand. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Where do you think I'm doing? I need to find a restroom and run his hands under the water a bit." She glanced at him over her shoulder, looking slightly annoyed. "His hand is burnt. What kind of caretaker would I be if I didn't take care of my charges?"  
  
"Ah."  
  
She forced herself to stop walking, remembering the real reason that had brought her to the museum that day-treasure. Her gut instinct screamed that stone was worth its weight in diamonds, in not more for the apparent spiritual value. She forced herself to become calm; allying herself with this man could get the access to information that would hike the gem's value. The payoff alone would likely be enough that she could support herself and her brother for a good year if not more. And all she would have to do would be to calm her embarrassment and her irritation and be nice to this guy for a little while. "I'm glad that we were able to help you out, Kazamatsuri-san."  
  
He blinked, clearly surprised by her shift in mood, but not unpleasantly so if the smile on his face was any indication. "As am I," he murmured dazedly. He was so preoccupied with watching her retreating form that he did not spot the small feline spirit form that was nipping at her heels as she sped off.  
  
When she was out of sight, Makoto slowly reached down to touch the glass orb. As it had been earlier, there was no heat radiating off of the jewel's surface. If anything, the sphere was cooler than it had been. He rolled the ball in his palm thoughtfully. Maybe it was some odd reaction when the ball was in the boy's hands...and that meant that there was obviously something special about the boy.  
  
Perhaps he should follow after them to watch over the boy, and make sure there weren't any lingering side effects. Of course, that would also mean spending the day with the boy's rather pretty young caretaker and her whirlwind mood swings. He could think of far worse ways to spend the day, most of which involved his rather distinguished female boss nagging him all day at his stuffy, cramped little office.  
  
Curiosity and the prospect of a pleasant afternoon with a pretty face won out, as he wandered towards the restroom.  
  
*****  
  
Ten minutes of cold water running over his hand seemed more than enough to the young boy. Soon, Takahiro was pulling Sumire out of the bathroom with his good hand, putting his best puppy dog eyes to the test. "Can we get some ice cream now, Onee-san? Please? Please?"  
  
She smiled down at the boy; at least he seemed to be feeling a bit better. And though he may have been misbehaving before, he also just helped find exactly what she had been looking for. She ruffled his hair fondly "Later, Taka-chan. We'll have to see if-."  
  
Her train of thought was thrown, as she collided with something not more than a few steps outside the bathroom door. With a groan, Sumire shut her eyes and raised a hand to quiet the pounding in her head. She had bumped her head against whatever it was, but at least she was still on her feet. It took a few seconds to register that it was an arm about her waist that was keeping her on her feet.  
  
"We really must stop running into each other like this."  
  
Of course...It just had to be him! She didn't dare open her eyes because she could just hear the smile in his voice. If she did, she would have to see those eyes of his again, and tempting though that might be, she had to keep her wits about her. It was bad enough that she was all too aware of the heat of his arm where it supported her waist. But she needed to get that information desperately, and if she let herself be an embarrassed mess, that would be the furthest thing from her mind. Besides, the part of her mind that always sounded like her mother reasoned, that lecher probably stepped in front of her so he could grope her again.  
  
He slipped his arm free of her waist, letting it linger there more than necessary.  
  
She bit her lip to keep from embarrassing herself and looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry again, Kazamatsuri-san. I wasn't looking were I was going. I'm just so clumsy today..."  
  
"It isn't a problem. I honestly can't say that I mind catching a pretty girl like you." He shot her a winning smile as he recognized the pink tint on her cheeks. "I was looking for you anyways."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
He nodded solemnly. "The both of you."  
  
Startled, she let go of the breath she didn't realize that she had been holding. She had forgotten that she still was holding onto Takahiro and was even more surprised to realize that his words had disappointed her.  
  
"Can I see your hand, kiddo?"  
  
The boy held out his hand to Makoto while Sumire looked at him incredulously. 'Really! Why is he so stubborn that he refused to believe that Takahiro actually was hurt?'  
  
"Hmmmm....that does look pretty bad."  
  
It wasn't until he pulled a clean bandage roll from his backpack and started to wrap it around the boy's hand that she wondered if she might have misjudged this man. He had crouched down to face Takahiro eye-to-eye as he wrapped the thick tan cloth around the boy's tiny hand with practiced ease.  
  
"There," he said minutes later, as he was fastening the metal clip to the stray end of the bandage. Smiling, his fingers ruffled the boy's hair. "That should make it feel better for a little while."  
  
"Miss..." Sumire hadn't realized she was staring at the man until he had spoken to her. "I'm sorry, I never did catch your name..."  
  
"Its 'Sumire-oneesan.'" Takahiro offered helpfully.  
  
"Well, 'Sumire-oneesan,' I wanted to offer to take you both out for ice cream. As a thank you for your help."  
  
"Oh..." Sumire blinked, forcing the blush from her face. This wouldn't do at all. "I'm not too sure. I told the kids' father we'd be coming straight home after the museum." She looked to the boy, silently begging him to agree with her. "I wouldn't want him to worry where they are."  
  
He blinked. "I have my cell phone if you need to call and tell him you will all be late."  
  
"That's...very kind of you, but I still think it would be better for us to get back. Perhaps some other time..."  
  
His eyebrows had furrowed in frustration. "I had hoped-"  
  
"Besides, the man you were talking with earlier seemed very insistent that you take that stone to wherever you were off to quickly."  
  
"Speeding back to the office really isn't necessary," he assured her, flashing Sumire his most devastating smile. "My business associate is out at an appointment for another hour at least."  
  
"But--"  
  
Growing weary of getting the run-around, he impulsively grabbed her arm. "Really, I must insist."  
  
"Taka-chan," Sumire forced a smile at her young charge, "why don't you go ask the nice lady at the front desk where the best place for ice cream is around here? I'll be up there in just a minute."  
  
"Yay!" he shouted as he sped off.  
  
"Don't run!"  
  
She struggled to hide a smile at his antics as he slowed his run just a little bit.  
  
As soon as the little boy was far enough out of hearing range, she wheeled around, jabbing her elbow into his side and taking advantage of his momentary shock to slip her arm free. "What do you think you're trying to pull?" Her eyes flashed angrily, but there was still the unmistakable flush that colored her cheeks.  
  
"I'd like to keep an eye on him." He sighed, wheezing a little from her jab. He had no intention of telling anyone about that little discovery, but it seemed that he had no choice but to be honest with her if he wanted to convince her. He met her gaze head-on. "When I picked up that glass ball, it was as cold as it was when I had touched it before. That's why I was so surprised that he had been hurt. Something is different about that little boy you are watching over. I'm afraid there might be some sort of bad side effect."  
  
"Bad side effect?" She frowned sharply. "What do you think could happen to him?"  
  
"I don't know. I've never seen anyone react that way to a relic like this before. This glass ball has several very old spells on it, but they all seem to be placed against demons, not humans." "It doesn't make sense that it would harm a human boy."  
  
"Demons?" Sumire rolled her eyes. "Really, you must be joking. Demons don't exist."  
  
"Not any more they don't. Many of the written records of the past do indicate a large amount of supernatural phenomenon that even modern science is at a loss to explain. But at some point all demons just disappeared and no one really knows why demons." He said matter-of-factly. "I may not look it, but I do have a quite a bit of spiritual training and I couldn't sense anything different about Taka-chan. He seems like a perfectly normal little boy...complete with the instinct to make trouble."  
  
Sumire suppressed a smile; this may be a serious situation, but he had Takahiro pegged. "And yet that glass ball burnt his hand when he touched it."  
  
"That's why I'm worried. None of this is making sense."  
  
"So what are you going to do if something goes wrong?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
She looked mildly annoyed. 'Why would you offer to watch him if you wouldn't have the slightest idea what to do?' What about the expert who you were taking the ball to...would they know?"  
  
"She would be my best bet."  
  
"Alright," she relented with a hint of a smile. He didn't seem to be that bad of a guy...at least if he wasn't trying to grope her. And he did seem to be genuinely concerned about Takahiro. "We'll go with you to your expert friend so they can take a look at Taka-chan. And then you can take us all out for ice cream."  
  
He smiled back at her a moment, before her words really hit him. "All?"  
  
*****  
  
"No, ma'am. It can't wait." The tip of the pen tapped against the desk rhythmically. The desk in front of him was piled with high government records and a phone was cradled against his ear. "I need those records today. In about two hours, if at all possible."  
  
What little evidence they had just wasn't leading them anywhere. They had no clear camera footage; it hadn't even suggested that their crook was a female, so it couldn't be of much help. The remnants of footprints in the plush carpet in the latest heist didn't even give them enough information to get any more than a vague idea of the shoe prints, which, by all accounts seemed to be Men's shoes. The carpets of the museums that had been burglarized were so thin and flat that not a single depression was made in the fabric. The combination of the shoes prints and the fuzzy camera footage were at least able to indicate that their thief was light on his--or as they know now, her--feet.  
  
"Yes, it is a matter of life and death!"  
  
At least they had determined that their criminal was a woman. Women were the bane of his existence it seemed. None of the listed female offenders had a matching DNA type, but that was to be expected since most of them had returned to prison and were not still roaming the streets of Tokyo at night.  
  
"Yes, I do mind being put on hold! You've had me on hold for the last hour and a half!" The vein on his forehead was pulsing. "Hello! Hello!!!"  
  
And damn it all, that scheming witch did have a good idea for trapping their thief...not that he'd ever admit it out loud. However, it was simply inexcusable that he'd been left out of the loop. She had no right to go over his head with his case and to not inform him first. She hadn't even been here a few months, but she had already been placed in a position of power above him, and now she was cutting standard procedure to suit her own whims. She had already arranged it so that some of his best officers were removed from his patrol group. She had seen that two of his best friends in the department were charged with possession and sale of illegal drugs, and by his friendship with the two, he was under suspicion from his other superiors.  
  
He wanted to slam the phone down against his desk in frustration; it seemed that the whole world was against him-or at least all of the females. There was not a shred of doubt in his mind that that woman was using all of her powers to strong-arm him out of the department and out of his job. Not even his ten years experience on the force with a shining record had apparently earned him any protection from her tactics, from the higher ups.  
  
"Damn it!" He raked a free hand through his bangs, trying in vain to calm himself. 


End file.
